


Grounded

by demonvampire180



Category: South Park
Genre: Drama, Established Relationship, Flash Fic, M/M, Older Characters, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 22:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13984398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonvampire180/pseuds/demonvampire180
Summary: Craig has a bit of an anger problem and he's not sure he'd be able to stay planted on Planet Earth without Tweek there to help bring him back down.





	Grounded

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in approximately twenty minutes with little to no editing done. After watching "The Fractured Butt Whole" again, I really wanted to write something short for them.

When I see him I feel grounded. My heart slows until it has become nothing more than the sound of a far off ritualistic drum. My vision, turned red, flashes white and then the world fills itself back in with colour. I can hear. The deafening sound of my own rage dissipates leaving me for just a moment in a void before I am reverse vacuumed back into a world of noise. And, when I return, there he is, twitching nervously as he rocks from one foot to the other, the last three buttons of his otherwise nice dress shirt haphazardly misaligned, his blonde hair looking as frazzled as he must feel. His eyes, wider than discs, the right one blinking every so often like its got an eyelash permanently making home in it, stare me down. I can't really read his expression. Is it fear? Anger? Maybe even sadness or worse yet... Pity.

It doesn't matter what it is though. Seeing him grounds me. He his the only anchor that can bring me back down to Earth. I want to be with him. I want to touch him. More than anything

_I need him._

_“C—Cra-aig.”_ His voice shakes and resonates bringing me further out of the darkness. The shimmering edges of my vision sharpen and I can see now the tears in the corner of his eyes. Why is he crying? He never cries. My gaze shifts down and I see red but... It's not red from building rage it's... Clearly it doesn't need to be said. I shift so that I can look down behind me, a body curled into a ball like a human isopod, its frame shaking. What the hell happened?

“Tweak. What. The. Fuck.” My voice sounds so steady but it's a complete contradiction of how I'm actually feeling. There's any number of reasons why we're here but I can't remember. I know we were... Walking.. Somewhere. The place couldn't have been important. I remember not getting where we were going but after that it's a blank. Why does this always happen? Lost in thought, when I look back, Tweak is in front of me, his giant blue eyes wide now only with the intense overdose of caffeine, though glimmering with fresh tears, his trembling hands cupping my face. (His hands still whenever he touches me; it's almost like magic.)

“Y-you prote-c-ted me.” He gets the words out in a single breath. “This is t-too much.” He leans in and surprises me with two kisses – one to my forehead, and then one to the tip of my nose – saying nothing further about the body at our feet, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. He hands it to me and lets go. (His momentary calm extinguished.) As I wipe my hands, dried flakes of red staining the somewhat crumbling piece of cloth, I find myself admiring him. My vision is now clear, his strong outline a clear image in my minds eye. Apparently I've protected him. That's a thing. He says that but somehow I'm doubtful.

Though I may be his fists of fury, he doesn't seem to understand what he does for me.

He doesn't understand that he grounds me.

“Yeah well. I don't know what he did but he probably deserved it.” I smirk and hand back the cloth nudging the limp white hand with the back of my heel.

I would love to tell him as such but honestly? It would probably be too much pressure.

 


End file.
